


Special Delivery

by Psybee



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Car Accidents, F/F, Female Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9911579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psybee/pseuds/Psybee
Summary: A chaotic event and an overwhelming sense of guilt brings you and Toriel together. But as your friendship forms and deepens, there is a shadow after you for reasons unknown to you.Can you keep your loved ones safe? Or will this shadow group take everything from you, including your life?Sporadic updates





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trying out something new. Also currently drunk so any mistakes will eventually be fixed.  
> But Psy it's not even noon and you're drunk? [It's 10:45 as I write this]  
> Well fuck you buddy.  
> Take my drunken spiel and be merry

[I]

Somewhere in the city, in a dark room a man sits. In front of him are three giant computer screens. The one to his left is directly connected to a surveillance camera of a bank. Instead of pointing to the bank's entrance, he positions the lens to 4 way intersection nearby. The middle screen shows a detailed map of the of the city as well as the grid that controls all of the stoplights. But that isn't what was most important on that screen. It was the small blinking dot that was slowly moving across the screen in real time. The screen held a simple voice chat screen and the members connected in the call are his associates. The man watches and waits until the dot crosses a particular street before he clicks on a button and initiates the call. Four green check marks appear after everyone's names, all accounted for.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he greets, "The rabbit is bouncing towards the trap. Is everyone ready for the show?"

"Affirmative," Says one voice garbled through a voice scrambler.

"We're ready to go," Replies another.

"Roger Roger," Answers the last.

The man at the computer waits and waits, watching the light go up the street and at the very last second he enters a command into the computer.

"Show time."

 

That one little command becomes chaos incarnate for the poor drivers on DuBois Street. The stop light that controls the intersection of DuBois Street and 8th Avenue suddenly changes the green light to turn red causing drivers to stomp on their breaks. Some are fast enough, are lucky enough to avoid a collision and their insurance thanks them for that. But others...others are not. Especially one particular cyclist. Before the light changed they were happily weaved in and out of lanes, wanting nothing more than to drop off their final delivery and relax. 

But then the lights shifted. And suddenly they're trying to avoid cars from ramming into them. The only out is the intersection so they book it. They make it out of the chaos and into the intersection. Only to have a car coming from DuBois crash right into them, full force. The cyclist is thrown off their bike, flies into the air and the hits the ground. Their body skips across the pavement as if one was skipping a stone across a pond's surface. It bounces three time before coming to a stop.

Elsewhere the man at the computer is all smiles. He zooms the bank camera in at the cyclist's crumpled body. Although there is no audio, he can imagine the screams and the cries for an ambulance. He watches as his associates appear from the shadows and rush the body under the guise of helping the biker. As a crowd forms the man sees the driver who hit the cyclist get out and approach the group. He gawks at the screen and then lets out a laugh. Out of all the people in the world, she's the one who became his unknowing cohort! He knew that there was a minor chance that her 'interference' could jeopardize his whole entire place but the percentage was so minor he really didn't have a reason to worry. In fact the entire group gets a little agitated as she makes her presence known. That's all his associates needed as they fled back to the shadows and the alleyways. The man phone rings and he checks it. Pack got are the only words and he smiles. Mission success.

 

[II]

Blink

Blink

Blink

 

Everything fuzzy and muted. Like an underwater speaker

Then there's pain.

So much pain.

Weird contrast.

Fuzzy surroundings.

Sharp pain.

 

Thing started to getting clearer. Annoying repeating sounds. Getting closer? Maybe. No definitely. 

Can see the veins in your eyelids. Bright day. Sunny death day.

People touching you, rolling you. You let out a cry and then there are no more hands. Something fills your mouth. Blood.

Screams and shouts and vibrations. You open your eyes. Bloody pavement. Lots of feet.

And then something, someone is holding you. Holding your hand.

It's fluffy and white. And big. You feel bad. Staining it wit your blood. You cough and you wheeze. More blood.

"Sssh. It's okay. You're going to be fine."

A voice that belongs in a jazz club. You try to life your head. And then you see their eyes.

Beautiful dark red eyes, like wine. The voice speaks again. It is calm but afraid. “Don't move. The medic are coming.”

They let go of your hand and you immediately react, lift your own to grab at them. But then your arm explodes in pain forcing you to close your eyes. You feel like you are going to die. You are pretty sure that you are going to die. There is a gasp and your feel the warm hand around yours. You open your eyes and see the eyes like wine. 

"Please...don't leave...me." You garble out. 

"I won't." Tears fall from your eyes mingling with blood on the street. The darkness approaches fast and you welcome it. You are not afraid. Because they won't leave you.

 

[III]

Toriel can only watch as she goes limp in her arms. This was not how her day was supposed to go. Toriel lifts her head and looks around. She sees the other people crowding around her some screaming at her while others look on in fear. She ignores them all as she searches and then, there! At the other side of the intersection is the ambulance. The EMTs are trying to make it through but the crowd not budging. She rises to her feet still looking regal while blood has ruined her summery green dress. "Let them through!" She commands. The crowd silences and moves aside, letting the two paramedics and their gurney. She takes a step letting the two men look over the cyclist. 

"Not looking good...Might DOA," is what the teacher hears. She doesn't know what the term means but she knows the look on the men's face.

Grim.

They carefully put the cyclist onto the gurney and wheel it back to the ambulance where they load it up. Toriel's feet carry her several yards towards the ambulance. She stops and watches as the emergency vehicle makes a U-turn and drives off, sirens blaring. Watches as it makes a left and is out of sight. And then there are fingers snapping in her face. 

"Your Majesty. Toriel!" 

She shakes her head and looks at the person calling to her. It's Undyne dressed in her patrol uniform. By the look on her face it looks like the ex-Captain is surprised to see Toriel involved.

"Are you okay? Do you need someone to look over you? Is Frisk with you?"

Toriel shakes her head.  "I'm fine and Frisk is with Asgore for the weekend. Do you know where they are taking her?"

Undyne sighed and took off her police cap, pushing the red strands of hair that escaped her bun out of her face. “Most likely Veritas Memorial Hospital most likely." Hearing those words makes Toriel walk towards her damaged car. "Whoa, whoa. Hold on!” Undyne grabs her shoulder to stop Toriel. Toriel turns and gives her the meanest glare she can muster and for a moment she can feel the fire forming in her hands. Undyne gulps as she explains, "I'll have to charge you with leaving the scene of a crime if you try to leave, your Majesty."

Toriel's body deflates and the embers disappear from her hands. Undyne sighs in relief. "I just need to get your statement. Of the accident."

"We made eye contact when I hit her. And when she was on the ground she begged me not to leave her alone," Toriel said so softly the monster cop had to strain to listen. 

Undyne grabbed her bloody hand and guided the former monarch to her squad car and placed her in the front passenger seat. Then she pulled out a small notebook and pen from her back pocket. “Can you tell me what happened before that?"

"I was on my way to the grocery. I had the light and then it just changed. Not even  I swerved to avoid a car coming into the intersection but…” Her frame starts to shake with unreleased sobs. Undyne grabs her hand in a soothing gesture.

“You don't have to continue." Undyne rubs her face with her free hand. "That makes four.”

Toriel stops shaking and looks at the officer. “Four? It's happened before.”

"Unfortunately. Some punk keeps hacking into the stoplights and causing accidents. Still trying to track him down." Undyne lifts her head and screams out, "Golden! Call those detectives on the traffic task force! We got another one!"

"Already on their way!"

Undyne nods and turns back to Toriel.

"Do you want me to drive you home? To Asgore's?"

Toriel shakes her head.

"Get me to that hospital."

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dinner, a hospital bed and an introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not know why you people like my drunk writing but thank you. My heart feels a little lighter whenever I see someone has left me a kudos or bookmarked or left me a comment. So here's some more! 
> 
> Written drunk  
> Edited tipsy

[I]

  
The restaurant is surprisingly busy for a Wednesday evening but it doesn't matter to him. People like him get special treatment.  
_  
‘Have another drink, sir. On the house.’  
  
‘Oh, I know that says it's sold out but we have a reserve in the back for you, if you want it, sir.’  
  
‘Special discount for you, sir, our most valued customer.' _  
  
And in this restaurant, it's no different. As he enters through the front doors, the waiters' and waitresses' faces light up, all of them knowing the giant tips he likes to leave. And so they wait and hope that they will be the one assigned to his table. He passes the long line of people waiting and walks up to where the hostess, a very pretty co-ed, is standing. She pulls her eyes away from the book of reservations, a frown on her face, expecting to have to battle yet another impatient person when she realizes who’s in front of her. The frown is replaced with a smile.  
  
“Hello sir. I almost didn’t recognize you. Did you get a haircut? It looks _good_ on you.”  
  
He almost blushes, running a hand through his freshly cut hair. “I did Tiffany and you’re the first person all day to recognize it. Thank you.”  
  
Tiffany beams with pride. “I have your table ready. Follow me please.”  
  
She grabs a menu and leads him to the back of the giant room. His table is tucked away in a corner where he can see everything but not everyone can see him. “I'll get Toby to come by and take your order,” Tiffany says before leaving, but then he grabs her wrist stopping her. She looks down at his hand and then at his face, confused. “Is there something wrong sir?”  
  
“No, not at all. I just wanted to tell you that I'm actually expecting some people to join me sometime in the next twenty minutes. Three men and a woman. If they drop my name, please bring them here.”  
  
“Of course, sir.”  
  
He gives her a warm smile. “Thank you.”  
  
She leave him alone at the table. He glances only for a moment at the menu when the waiter, Toby, comes by for his order. He gets an appetizer but holds off on the entree. As Toby runs off, he checks his phone and watches the other patrons consume their meals. The waiter returns shortly with his stuffed clams and his beer. He thanks the young man and slowly consumes his starter. The clams are tangy with equal parts breading, seasoning and clam. He believes compliments to the chef are necessary.  
  
He polishes off the final clam when Tiffany returns to his table with four people trailing her. “The rest of your party has arrived, sir.”

"Thank you Tiffany."  
  
They each take a seat at the table and she hands each of them a menu before walking off.

  
He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “You’re late.”  
  
“Well, we had to make sure no one followed us,” says the woman with a red shirt and black slacks. She places a briefcase by his feet. He uses his leg to pull it under the table.  
  
“I woke up late, my bad.” The man in purple hoodie and jeans coughs and drinks the glass of water.  
  
“We got lost,” says the man in the green suit. The man wearing the orange polo and khakis sitting next to him nods.  
  
Red looks over the menu and balks when she eyes the prices. “You couldn’t have brought us some place that _didn’t_ charge a newborn?”  
  
“If the cost is the problem then don’t worry your pretty little face. I’ll be footing the bill.”  
  
“Well, in that case I’m ready to order.”  
  
“So am I.”  
  
“Same.”  
  
He spots Toby and waves him over, chucking as the waiter practically throws another table's order to one of the busboys before sprinting over. _How eager they are to please._ Toby takes their drink and entree orders before disappearing once again. The five of them sit in silence looking around the room, at their phones, and periodically at each other. Once their drinks arrive, their lips become looser and small talk is had. Their meals follow sooner after and they eat, this time while discussing everything from the weather to books they have read. Everything except what brought them there today.  
  
  
  
And then he stands up. The other four go tense until he picks up his glass of beer.  
  
“A toast my friends. For a job well done.”  
  
"Here, here!" Purple gets up, goofy smile and all and clinks glasses with him. Orange and Green soon stand and knock glasses as well. Red doesn't get up but she does raise her glass. They do a group toast before returning to their seats.  
  
The rest of dinner is uneventful. He finishes his meal before everyone else and calls Toby over. "Put whatever else they want on my card."  
  
Toby runs off and comes back with the receipt. He signs it, leaving a giant tip before returning his attention to the four. "As much as I want to stay and order some desert I need to run. Please have some, on me. And enjoy."  
  
He picks up the briefcase and heads towards the exit. _But they're not the only one who deserves a treat_ , he decides. So he stops by the waiting area, where Tiffany is fending off would-be customers.  
  
He places an arm around her waist, pressing her body to his. She tries to jerk away but relaxes when she sees it's him.  
  
"Sir? Is there a problem?"  
  
"Come home with me," he whispers.   
  
Her dilated eyes say it all. “My shift’s over in ten.”  
  
“I’ll be outside.”

And so he waits.

Twelve minutes later, he’s in a cab with the young woman.  
  
  
It's good to be him.  
  
  
  
[II]  
  
**Beep**  
  
**Beep**  
  
**Beep**  
  
  
  
Loud.  
  
Oh so loud.  
  
You open your eyes and wince.  
  
  
  
Everything is white.  
  
Blinding white.  
  
Sterile white.  
  
  
  
That could mean one of two things: You’re either dead and you’re just waiting for that really handsome black guy to welcome you to heaven and show you where the buffet table’s at…  
  
Or you’re in a hospital.  
  
In your haste to find out where the handsome guy’s at, you attempt to sit up. Keyword being _attempt_.  
  
The amount of pain that shoots through your upper body and your arm clearly tells you that you are not in the afterlife just yet. Your body sags back into the bed as you groan and curse the blinding light above you. And the cocky ball of light laughs back at you.  
  
_Wait a tic._  
  
  
No, you’re pretty sure someone laughed. A tilt of the head reveals that that someone is sitting in a chair next to your bed.  
  
“I’m sorry for laughing my child, but you're in no condition to be moving around like that.”  
  
  
That voice, you remember that voice.

"Are you okay? Should I call a nurse?”

Everything feels...nice when they speak. You feel nice when they speak. And then your eyes focus and you see dark ruby eyes, the same dark ruby eyes. And that voice. The same voice that comforted you after you got hit.   
  
  
“Not a child...Wine eyes,” you croak out.

You hear them chuckle. “Wine eyes?”  
  
“Like vintage... but taste good,” you slur.  

The person laughs and you join in, your brain slowly realizing how stupid (but totally valid) that explanation is. And as the both of you laugh the scene in front of you finally comes into focus. And sitting next to you is Toriel Dreemur, the Queen of all Monsters. A small smile graces her face as she presses a button on the bed. It starts to shift and positions so you're sitting up. Her clothes are stained in blood. Your blood.  
  
Well, this is not how you expected your first meeting with her would go.  
  
“I'm glad you are awake,” she says as she reaches over and rests her hand on your uninjured right one.

“Glad...you stayed.”  
  
“I did make a promise. My name is Toriel Dreemur,” she introduces herself.  
  
“Queen...of...Underground,” you supply.  
  
“Former queen,” she counters.  
  
You introduce yourself, mouth still dry from the drugs. You want to counter to her claim of abdication (is it really abdication or abolition?)  but then the darkness at the edge of your vision starts to spread and your eyes get heavy.  
  
_No, not now! Not when I have so many questions!_  
  
And so you try to voice them. _How long were you all imprison? Did you worship a higher power? Is there a Church of the Underground?_ But when you open your mouth to ask her how long were you out but all that comes out is a garbled groan. She laughs.  
  
"That’s probably the drugs taking effect. Don't fight the medication." Her soft hand rests on your head. "Sleep."  
  
_But you might not be here when I wake up_ , is what your want to say. Instead you lean into her hand and whine, “I dunnwhato.” Somewhere far off the rational section of your brain that’s still awake is screaming at you for acting like a child in the presence of royalty.  
  
And then only black.

 

[III]  
  
Toriel can’t help but to admit that the woman is cute when she sleeps. The ex-queen watches her chest slowly rise and fall with the beeps of the heart monitor. She pulls her hands away from the sleeping patient, gets up and walks to front of the bed where the medical charts lay. She doesn't have to pick them up to know what the diagnosis. They tell a story of a broken foot and a shattered elbow; a story of fractured ribs and a ruptured spleen; a story of a biker versus a 1.35 tonnes car.  
  
All caused by her.  
  
She wrings her hands as she turns away from the bed, recalling that biker’s words and what Undyne had told her after: that it wasn’t her fault. Some computer hacker was to blame.  But maybe if she wasn’t going so fast, maybe if she wasn’t so eager to go home...  
  
  
The rapid padding of feet hitting linoleum bring Toriel out of her minor guilt trip. Is there something wrong? None of the machines are going off and the last nurse made her rounds shortly before she woke up. 

But then a man comes skidding into the room. The newcomer is dressed in a vest and slacks with a bushy gray beard and salt-and-pepper hair. He’s breathing hard as he approaches the bed.  
  
“Aw kid.” A look of heartbreak is on his face as he leans over and places a hand on her cheek. “I told you not to do that run.”  
  
Toriel feels anxious. If this is a family member, she doesn’t want to intrude on their private time. “Ahem, excuse me.”  
  
The man jolts back, first surprised that there's someone else in the room and then realizing at _who_ it is.  
  
“Oh...uh...hi,” he stammers a greeting.  
  
“Hello. Are you her father,” she asks.  
  
The man shakes his head as he joins her at the foot of the bed. He holds out a hand introducing himself, “I'm her boss, and emergency contact. At the school. Dr. Roger Glaciers.”  
  
“Toriel Dreemur.”  
  
The doctor has a giant grin on his face. “Oh, I know who you are.”  
  
Toriel’s not sure how to take the look on his face. “You said you are her boss?”  
  
He nods again. “Oh yes. Dean of Classics at the College. She’s a research professor. Well, she’s a math professor..adjunct I think... but she’s working on her doctorate...had this interesting idea on monster mythology and ...oh dear, I’m blabbering. What I mean to say is that she’s bright. Really bright. Super bright...”  
  
It is very odd that a human wants to know the stories of monsters. After all they were the ones who sealed them away. Then again those were the actions of their ancestors and she knew first hand that many humans didn’t act like the ones who locked them away.  
  
And there are still many who do.  
  
Toriel sighs and returns to her chair. “I am surprised her family hasn’t showed up yet.”  
  
The smile on Roger’s face morphs into a sad frown that Toriel catches.

"They are going to show up, aren't they? I assume the hospital did call her next of kin?”

 “They won’t come.”  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“Big mouth."  
  
The insult comes from the formerly sleeping lump on the bed. She yawns and looks at Roger, “You and your big mouth is gonna get hurt.”  
  
Roger just laughs, walking over and gently grasping her uninjured hand. “Glad to see you're still alive.”  
  
“Fuck off Roger.”  
  
The Dean smiles at Toriel. “That means she is happy to see me.”  
  
He turns back and asks, “Are you going to withdraw from teaching? The semester is right around the corner...?”  
  
  
“Tell Donovan to … split my calc classes with...Zalamea and Crute. No....Zalamea and Vega… You teach my myth class. Tell you when I’ll be able to get back.”  
  
“You don’t need anything from your apartment?”  
  
She shakes her head before looking towards the ex-queen. “Hi Toriel. How long was I out?”

“Not too long. Twenty minutes possibly.”

“Awesome." Another yawn. "Do you know how to get a nurse here? I wanna use the bathroom.”  
  
“Of course dear.” Toriel reaches over and presses a red button on the bed.  
  
"One more question."  
  
"What is it," Toriel asks.  
  
She has a goofy smile on her face, "Where’s the button that’ll make you come?"  
  
Toriel’s face goes red as Roger yells at her. “What the hell!? You don’t say that to the Queen of Monsters!”  
  
“Ex-queen, Roger.”  
  
Before Roger could argue more, a group of nurses step into the room.

“Okay, everyone out,” one said as they crowd around the bed, “We need to check the bandages and take vitals.”  
  
Roger and Toriel step into the hallway. The man rubs his face before addressing the ex-royal, “I am so sorry about that. She is normally not that…”  
  
“Raunchy?”  
  
“Yeah...raunchy.”

He sighs and scratches his head, “I’ll tell the nurses if they can reduce the painkillers slightly so she's not that offensive. Then I’m going to return to the school to prepare the other instructors. Will you still be here Miss Toriel?”  
  
“Yes. I believe so.”  
  
“Could I get your number? Just so I can check up with her."  
  
Toriel smiles, watching as the nurses fight to get her blood pressure.  
  
“Of course.”


End file.
